The Dancer
by Mokkeaia
Summary: The story starts with that mysterious dancer visits Boober. No really shipping, more about friendship. Three parts, last one has a chance to be revised.
1. The Dancer

The Dancer

One beautiful day was usual for all Fraggles on the rock, including Boober who could enjoy less active fun, or not fun at all. He was just resting in his hole, pondering things and universe.  
>"Doozers", thought Boober. "Why do they build so small? Why are they small? If they were bigger, they could build for us, Fraggles. And not radish sticks buildings, but something useful and less tasty so everyone is tempted to eat more and more... Oh my." He found out that he is crisping a stick stored an hour ago.<br>The song was playing somewhere around, "Dance your cares away!" - "Well", he thought, "It's not about many Fraggles have cares at all... Maybe a few. Why dance, anyway?"  
>His eyes closed. He almost fell asleep as he heard a new sound coming. It was charming, breathtaking yet a little sinister guitar music. It didn't scared Boober, surprisingly. He waited and listened.<br>Two unknown Fraggles entered Boober's hall. One was the guitar player, bleak green old man with a beard. His eyes were small and oblivious to Boober's presence. The other Fraggle is very tall and thin female. Notable thing about her was that her eyes were covered with dark chiffon piece - her eyes could not be seen, but she sees.  
>None of two wanderers noticed Boober. It didn't bother him at all; the charm of the female Fraggle was fascinatingly strong. Unlike her fellow who wore scarf and jacket with hood, she wore nothing but that piece on eyes.<br>Her musician sat on ground in corner, and then he stopped playing the guitar.  
>"You wanted dance, you'll get it", said the female Fraggle. Her sharp and strong movements, manner of speaking reminded Cantus the Minstrel, even her voice was not feminine. This Cantus similarity both haunted and elated Boober.<br>Musician started to make new sounds which by-turn created music out of themselves. Music was calm. Boober could relate it to autumn colours and to autumn itself, if he knew it. He imagined a setting where he stands alone on some path flooded with sunlight, surrounded by orange, red and mustard colours vastly. Though, all colours were slightly diluted, as if it was done by wind.

The dancer whirled in her dance. She moved carefully and quietly. Her ability to use the body amazed Boober. All Fraggles can control their tails, but the dancer _operates_ it. Her steps didn't make any sound that is possible to be heard behind music. She moved the same way round, keeping closer to the musician.  
>Boober exclaimed in a whisper as the music lowered volume, "It's wonderful!.."<p>

Both the dancer and her assistant musician looked at Boober with blank faces. He thought it may be not a good sign, and he interrupted them.

"Dance and music together need no words", stated the musician, opening his mouth for first time.  
>Boober felt reproachful as he always tends to. Meanwhile music started again. It was not the same calm melody; now it sounded disturbingly and coldly. It can be related to late autumn with its high wind, so cold and so lonely. Unlikely that Boober could breathe broken in that moment. He watched the talented dancer in full silence. Her gentle gesture was combined with music very well. It's impossible to know whether it's music fits the dancer or the dancer to music.<p>

"She's sweet", he thought. Suddenly, she stared at Boober. "Wow, did she read my mind?.." The dancer moved more actively, coming closer to Boober. He barely noticed how music changed back to the first melody.  
>"Join in", invited the dancer. Boober could not resist. They joined in a dance, beautiful, calm and warming dance. His breath was broken, he stepped carefully, even if not with awe. They went round and round. He noticed how adroitly music warmed up, leaving only red and orange colours in his imagination without any dilution. Boober held his partner tenderly, like she was a highly fragile piece of glass. The dancer however held him firmly; no emotion passed through her. Boober was rather passionate but only his breath could tell that. His movements and gesture were awkward and constrained, especially compared to his partner.<p>

As music slightly slowed down, Boober thought. "Oh, how firmly she holds me..."  
>The dancer held more firmly.<br>"Coincidence? Or she really..."  
>Music changed again. Boober couldn't figure how.<br>"She's so close to me..."  
>Responding to Boober's wish, she clasped him even closer.<br>"Wow... What colour is she?"  
>Boober couldn't recognise any colour in her. She had no colour, or she was all colours.<br>"Would she kiss me now?", the wildest Boober's thought flashed across his mind. He was tempted to see, does she really read his minds. He wished she does.  
>"Now, a moment more!"<br>Her lips touched Boober's nose.  
>"Wow..."<br>Boober recoiled slightly but he showed that he enjoyed it a lot. The dancer was indifferent to Boober. All what she did was what Boober wished; the kiss was obviously not pleasure to her.  
>The pair continued their dance. Boober felt better, his movements became free and airy, if not elegant and dainty. His usual shyness seemed to decrease.<p>

"Can you really read my mind?" whispered Boober. Firstly he was scared to ask her anything, but hesitation has gone with a kiss.  
>Music stopped again. The dancer stopped moving.<br>"What is your name?" asked Boober. The dancer walked to her musician and sat on ground touching his feet.  
>"I'm Dancer Fraggle, and I teach Fraggles to dance", answered the dancer. "You wished to watch dance, you watched. You wanted to join me, you joined. You wanted me to kiss you, you was kissed."<br>"Can I only wish things related with dance?" asked Boober. "Yes."  
>"How come kiss related to dance?" - "It changed your attitude."<br>"Can we dance again?" asked Boober, anticipating the shared moments with Dancer. She didn't answer this time.

Music started; this time it sounded very fast. Boober imagined an evening setting, where the colours are mostly crimson and bordeaux. It was not a quiet evening he liked to spend alone. His passion rose. They moved energetically, going from Boober's hole to the musician's corner, round and round. Boober felt that his body is aching, and he told his partner to stop. He thanked Dancer, "It was that rare kind of fun I like, thank you". He tried not to look into her face, but it was tempting for him to see her eyes.

"That's well. Call whenever you want to dance, _little Boober!_", she smiled. It changed her whole look. Boober heard familiar phrase but he failed to recognise its creator. He fell asleep as he reached the sleeping place.  
>"Oh... Was it all a dream?.." thought Boober when he woke up. "Yes, it's probably was. But why then my body is aching? Strange". By nature's signs, Boober estimated the time he spent on dancing and sleeping. "It couldn't be a dream. It's unnatural for a Fraggle to sleep that much, so it must be also time that I danced away. Aha! You got it, <em>danced away<em>!" His mood was definitely cheery. "If it was a dream, it was the best dream ever. I think I should try this kind of dance in real now. By the way, how did they leave?"

Boober stretched himself and briskly walked to do his daily stuff.


	2. Apparition

**Apparition**

Boober was having fun with his friends down at Fraggle Rock. However, having fun can mean different things for different persons. Boober doesn't want extremely active fun which Red enjoys then and now. The Dancer showed Boober that dance is a gem for him. He did not forget her, nor did he forget to practise dance more. Sometimes, when it's late and majority of Fraggles sleep, he plays with random objects. His pas with radish looked both hilarious and charming. He sought a partner, and it was evidently a pain for him. His dancing part of life was hidden, and it didn't appear to be released yet. He thought that none of his friends will truly understand him. Red and probably Gobo are most likely to laugh at him. Mokey is overreacting at things; he was afraid that she'll praise him aloud and speak all the time about it. She is not trustworthy enough to keep such secrets. His close friend Wembley won't make a good dancer, Boober thought. He isn't a good keeper of secrets as well – Gobo can break him easily if his target is to discover it. He knew that it is the best to say nothing at this time.

One lonely evening Boober was filled with angst. He couldn't dance. Music usually flies in air over the rock, it makes him dance. Tonight he could not hear anything but slow and unhurried music like never ending rainy day, grey and cold. The only way to move to these sounds is staying at one place, both waiting for and despising the feel of night. "I could go to bed earlier so I will wake up earlier…" thought Boober. He sat on his sleeping place and felt that he doesn't want to sleep at all. "Why, Dancer, why? I want to have my fun evenings with you! You said you'll come anytime I call!" He was apparently very sad. Sorrow and his urge to do something drove his sleep away for a long time. It's was such a torture for Boober.

"Ah?" exclaimed Boober. Someone entered his hall. "Oh, hi, Boober! You are still awake, aren't you?" asked Mokey.  
>"Well, yes… I can't sleep". He had a fixed look on her for few seconds, as if he was pondering, is she worth to know.<br>"Boober, you know, I couldn't sleep until I finish my newest oil painting. You should see it – I think it's my best work in oil so far. Ah, I visited you because… I thought you had some turpentine to wash my brushes? Can you do me a favour? I'm very tired now! I'll be so glad" sang Mokey. "Sure, good night, Mokey". – "Good night, Boober!"  
>At least, there's some activity now, Boober thought. It's better than suffer from sleepless night.<p>

He took brushes and put them on a corner of bath where turpentine awaited them. He wondered, what work has she done? What was that painting Mokey talked about? His imagination went wild: from a little cute landscape of the pond to powerful image of a Fraggle who does the right job in his life. "Maybe I need a hobby like drawing?" He found an empty space on his wall and set it up like a canvas in his imagination. There was some paint on Mokey's brushes – that was enough for Boober. One brush had dark paint of its tip. Boober painted a broad line, which was supposed to be that chiffon piece on Dancer's eyes. He questioned himself again, what colour is she? He tried to feel it rather than understand. Another bigger brush had light colour – mix of grey, pink and a tad orange. Perfect. Boober saw it exactly so. It's appeared that his eyes see colours in a very peculiar way that only experienced artist can succeed in. Lack of skills was evident only when it comes to shapes. He tried hard, but his outline style failed to pass whole image. Boober was satisfied with outcome. However, the same fear of doing creative activity blamed Boober for it, and he had to cover this wall with something (he chose blanket).  
>He was ready to sleep. "Oh, it's so cold without blanket…"<p>

In very early morning guitar sounds woke him up. He recognised music of Dancer's musician. He was sitting on the floor in Boober's hall, making amazing sounds from his instrument. Boober related it to the sea. It was time of saying hi to someone. There was flight rather than moving after sounds. It was sunrise, definitely.  
>"Where's Dancer?" asked Boober. As he suspected, music immediately stopped – there are no words and music together in musician's world. "She is here," answered musician.<p>

From darkness of morning, stepping carefully yet confidently, as if hovering like a ghost, Dancer Fraggle came. Boober could not smile more sincere ever before. He rushed into her. "I'm so glad you came" whispered Boober. He did it to warm his cold arms. Dancer smiled – it was a rather forced smile. Musician was playing the same melody.

As they blended with each other, Boober could think, he has no colour too. He was with Dancer, and she was only for him in that moments. He is now a better dancer, everything should go right. They whirled, moved step by step to musician, and back. Flawless movements of Dancer enchanted. Music stopped, so pair had time to rest a little.  
>"You're beautiful, you're truly beautiful!" Boober praised his partner. She sat by his side; her heart beat regularly – it was impossible to tell that she has just actively moved. Boober's heart beat rapidly, and it may be not exercising as the only reason of it.<p>

"You were practising it, weren't you?" asked Dancer, much indifferently as always. "Yes… I don't have other dance partner than you…" whispered Boober, assuming that it was hint. She answered nothing. Boober moved a little closer to her. "Can you come more often? Please?" Dancer didn't answer again.

Music started. Boober's body was free, he enjoyed the dance, but inside, it made him disappointed slightly. New music was slow. He imagined a ball setting, where his partner is no better than a doll, emotionless and perfect, responding to every single wish. She danced for the highest goal, not because of her pleasure, not to bring pleasure to others. This thought tortured him. Music fastened. They circled round and round, from musician to Boober's sleeping place. All colours blended together; nothing had colour. Boober got a headache. He removed his arm from Dancer shoulder and turned his head towards the entrance. Like in slow motion, Mokey entered the hall, showing her scared face. She screamed. Music stopped.

After few hours, Boober came to senses. He breathed broken and looked up. Mokey was sitting by his side. Saying nothing, Boober looked at her with a question. She nodded.

"You met Dancer Fraggle... How?" asked Mokey. Boober noticed that she is still scared as her eyes were widened. He compared her to Dancer, that ruthless creature that knows no emotion. Mokey can be imperfect; actually, she has a lot of flaws. He remembered her scared face when she entered his hall. Unkempt hair, awkward clothing. She looked nothing like flawless doll which always look dainty and charming (except for when she's interrupted). And Mokey _is _what he wants to see. He wants to see her fear, angst, annoyance, and, of course, joy, blooming, happiness. She does mistakes, and it makes her so lively, so warm, even if her body is cold. Mokey can reveal his secret, so can Wembley. Red can laugh at him, and it won't make her a monster. He should be not ashamed of himself for liking dance. It's better to face the critique than hide and live with someone who won't talk with him or appreciate his being. He looked into worried face of mere Fraggle, and then back in no particular direction. He decided to let her know everything since Dancer came to him. She carefully listened to his speech and nodded from time to time to comfort him.

"You know… If anyone discovers, they'll laugh! Don't tell Red… She'll laugh too hard at me. Please, Mokey. Will _you_ laugh?" Boober cried, going straightly into Mokey as he usually does in despair. "Does it look like I am even smiling, Boober? Of course, if you wish is not to reveal it… I'll keep the secret, I promise." – "Do you swear with the Solemn Fraggle Oath?" – "I do." Mokey recited the Oath. Boober significantly calmed down. "Boober, I know a legend about Dancer Fraggle…" Mokey whispered. Boober stared at her with a question; he shivered. "It's a legend in a poem. Sorry if it's not quite accurate, Boober.

From founder Fraggles she came;  
>No one was brave to take her fame.<br>She danced and Dancer was her name.

She lost all her range of emotions;  
>She had no other options,<br>Dark piece worked like thousand potions.

Unholy Fraggle girl was unreal;  
>One meets her, she becomes one's ideal...<br>Apparition can't see behind its deal.

She's doomed to live forever  
>Making to newest dancers a favour;<br>Through eternity, looking for clever..."

Boober was staring into space again, trembling slightly. "It is what she was, Mokey… She read my mind. Wow, it sounds so scary now! But then I wasn't scared, really, I wasn't! By the way, where did you get to know the legend?" – "I don't remember. Someone just told me, that's all. Don't worry, _little Boober_. She won't come unless you called her." Mokey sang and comfortingly put her arm over Boober's shoulder. She smiled genuinely and hugged Boober. "Ah, I see, you wanted to dance. That's why she came, and that's why she went away – you weren't enjoying it, were you, Boober?" asked Mokey. "Exactly." – "Well, if you want to dance… why, I could be your partner!" suggested Mokey, tightly holding Boober's hands.

She left his hall. Boober was anticipating upcoming evening. Mokey promised to come to dance with him (or, may be, just a possibility… Will they just have fun together?). He also asked her to take some oil paint and brushes – however, he didn't mention for what. He took the blanket away. Oil didn't dry yet. Great! Now, there should be one change. Only few changes. "_Finally_ there will be a portrait of her."


	3. The Hobby

The Hobby.

Two months later, it was all the same lonely evening for Boober Fraggle. He was sitting on his sleeping place and enjoying the loneliness. Speaking of it, he tried to be more social, but he couldn't be someone else than himself. He turned his head and looked at Mokey's painting, meaning that painting was presenting Mokey, not made by her. Boober still wonders, what did give him such skills to paint this amazingly representative portrait? There she is, looking through the wall, through the polish layer, pondering her own things with barely caught smile on her face. She is a decent dancer. Dance with her is a little different than with Dancer. Dancer is full of her confidence, she does no mistakes. All her movements are exact; it's easy to foresee her actions. She danced _forever – _she has no more room to improve. Mokey, on the other hand, didn't develop completely. Her style is still vague, and it makes her interesting. She also helps Boober with his paintings, giving a little critique on each step. But Boober is very sensitive, so even lighthearted Mokey's notes make him sad.

Boober tried very hard to become stronger, but he couldn't move on, his life didn't progress and he felt empty inside. He was doing all the same things – laundry, cooking, dancing and painting. Considering the fact that he still did not reveal his dancing part of life to his other friends, it was going to be a little harder to find a new activity. "They would help a lot, but what if they suggest dance? I can't lie to my friends." Boober thought. He was simply bored and it was that kind of boredom when it's mixed with laziness, so you don't know what to do and don't want to do anything (even if you knew what!). He could continue one of his unfinished paintings. It's Dancer's image where she is painted over a black canvas. She's meant to look cold and ruthless, therefore Boober should have used more cold, less saturated colours. But using transparent and bleak colours would make Dancer blend with background. "Maybe it's a good idea? She was sort of blending with everything that surrounded her", Boober thought.

Boober opened a wooden box that was lying under his hole. This box was his birthday gift presented by his friends. It was filled with pencil-like charcoal, brushes of real baloobius hair (there is a special Fraggle who should donate a few hairs to brushmakers), oil paint tubes of different colours and lots of easy-to-get paper made out of radish leaves and other raw materials that Doozers employ in their production. He took out paints and brushes and was about to continue his work. "I think I should sharpen edges to highlight her negative attitude…" was Boober's deep mind. He took the brush and dove into his work. It was definitely a hard work – Boober grumbled and clicked his tongue if something went wrong. He worked painstakingly to make each stroke unique, put new unsaturated colours into a new layer to alter the value of the whole piece.

"It is not coming along the way I want… Hmph. It makes her look like a corpse, not a cold but living creature" Boober mumbled. "Well, maybe you should add light pink and mauve instead of red?" – "Mokey! Ah, don't scare me like this… "; Boober didn't notice how Mokey entered his room and sneaked up to him to watch the process. "Aw, sorry, Boober! I didn't want to do scare you, but you know, I also didn't want to interrupt you from the painting. This painting looks fascinating, almost haunting! You did a very good job here, Boober!" Mokey praised Boober. "Yeah? I don't think so." – "Come on, Boober! You see, there are a few things that you may change, but nitpicking so much is stressing; you shouldn't overdo it." – "How then would I progress without nitpicking?" Mokey didn't answer at first. She looked at Boober; he was too stressed. "Well… There is a difference between fair critique and nitpicking," Mokey prattled. "… To which I can't relate. I have to do everything the best. If there's something that I don't like or doesn't fit the image, then there is a way to change it and make it better. If I can make it better, it's not done yet. It's not the best out of what I can do!" Boober nervously shouted, flinging into the canvas. Mokey looked with worry at him and decided to leave him alone, for some time. Boober however didn't bothered to notice Mokey and he didn't know she left.

"Gosh! It's still so much things to work out!" he thought. Boober spread the brush with red, white and a little blue. He got light pink. "Is it that colour, Mokey?" Boober asked the walls. "Oh… She has already left. What have I done? I shouted on her," Boober punished himself. Now he feels disgusted to work on the piece. He decides to go for a walk before going to sleep. He put the brushes on a shelf to wait for turpentine bath, looked again at his work and realized one thing (that he probably realized earlier subconsciously) – Dancer does really look like Mokey, however she is thinner, bleaker and has dark hair. Why? By legend, Dancer becomes ideal for one who meets her. So, she looked like Mokey, and it means… Boober was embarrassed by this mind. "She's not ideal," he tried to convince himself. But he was not Convincing John, it didn't help – he could think about nothing but this. This mind tempted him. He needed to talk to someone about anything but this!

Boober ran to the Great Hall. On his way he stuck upon Wembley Fraggle. He was standing still on his tiptoes looking in no definite direction with slightly opened mouth. It seems he has been standing here for a long time – Doozers have built buildings over his mouth. Boober thought that it's a kind of game.

"Wembley, what are you doing? Hey? Are you playing or what?!" Boober asked Wembley. He answered, "O, hi Boober! Psh! Yum, that's a tasty building in my mouth a—", he couldn't finish his speech because he was choking with a Doozer stick that accidently fell into his throat. Boober cried, "Wembley! Gosh, I have to do something… ". He slapped Wembley's back hard – and it helped. He spat out that vicious stick. "Ew, thanks, Boober!" he said coughing. "Now… What. Kind. Of. Game. Was. It?!" Boober bawled threateningly underlining every word. "Sorry, sorry… It was a game that Red suggested – if you're standing on your tiptoes for a long time without moving, you're going to grow! Red and I were competing on who is going to grow the most. Well, Red suddenly found that she has so much things to do, so I was playing alone… " Wembley excitedly retold his story. "Wembley, you could have died! It was a dangerous game! Don't you understand?! And it's already very late! You should go to bed!" Boober was maddened by the happening. His angry voice scared Wembley and the yellowish Fraggle felt very guilty. He was staring on the floor and playing with that stick in his hands. Boober came to mind that he shouted again, now on his best friend. Maybe it's something up with him, not with his friends? Why does his bad mood upset others?

"Oh no, I shouted again… Wembley, sorry! I understand that it was my fault. I interrupted you!" – "Don't worry, Boober. By the way, who was your first 'victim'?" Wembley asked jokingly. "It was Mokey. I'm so afraid I hurt her…" – "Aw, come on, Boober! You can hurt anyone but Mokey. She understands you too well and loves too much to be offended," Wembley giggled. It made Boober confused and he asked, "But doesn't she love everyone?" – "Oh yes. But you're her favourite _little Boober!_" Wembley teased Boober. Boober didn't want to talk about it now, so he walked away from Wembley, looking down and saying nothing. "But Boober! I didn't want to…" cried Wembley. It was really true – Wembley always says things that only on his mind. Mokey's caring for Boober is something really evident for him, so it didn't bother Wembley to tell it like it is. He couldn't understand why Boober got annoyed and left him.

Boober was downcast. He walked far and far from The Great Hall in unknown direction. It was an endless hallway that led him to a little light cave. It was completely empty, except for a farther corner – there was lying a radish, already rotten and smelling awful. "Am I going to it? To being a lonely, rotten radish lying in a far cave? Most certainly! I upset everyone who tries to help me…" Boober thought and sat in a corner, putting the radish on his lap. He wept, carefully stroking his little radish friend. "Soon I'll get hungry and you'll, my friend, be eaten," Boober told the radish. This mind made him even sadder. Why is he so unsocial, why doesn't he get along with his friends? He wanted to visit The Trash Heap to get help, but something stopped him. It was already very late. The Trash Heap must have been already sleeping.

"Why? Why am I here? Is it my destiny to be here at this moment?" Boober asked himself. His eyelids were growing heavy, he saw everything like in a mist. He curled up in a corner, gently hugging his radish, and fell asleep.

He got up in a few hours. Some weird noise woke him up. It was a mix of clicking, clatter and barely heard roar. Boober got very scared, because he realized that there is no more a radish with him! So somebody took it! He, or she, was somewhere here, making that sound!.. Boober was trembling in the corner without an ability to stand up. Fear paralyzed him. The sound was coming closer. "Gosh!.. What's going to happen?.. There's no any weapons…" Boober thought. Clatter became louder and more persistent. "I'm going to die…"

A small, grayish brown bearded Fraggle entered the cave. He had a strange suit made of rocks and some rusted metal that were tied on cords. They were making this noise. The Fraggle looked surprised and somewhat crazy. "Aaa! Don't kill me! Don't eat me!" Boober yelled as he noticed how thin the Fraggle is. The Fraggle laughed and made clanking sound with metallic plates of his suit. "Funny thing!.." he spoke hoarsely. "I'm a hermit," said the Fraggle. Every his word came in forced, like it was very hard for him to speak. Hermit Fraggle noticed Boober's confusion and added, "I didn't speak for ages…". Boober calmed down a little as he saw no danger in him so far. He asked, "Why this suit? It makes awful sound!" – "To keep strangers away…". Boober's fear sparked again. Is he a stranger? Hermit noticed it. "You don't look dangerous," Hermit comforted Boober. "I came here to take my radish… I wandered a lot and lost it here…" – "But it's already very rotten!" Boober said. Hermit laughed again, "I wandered a lot, for weeks. I want to eat. I can't walk anymore…" . Boober examined Hermit Fraggle carefully. Then he saw how really thin he is, how dirty he is, how poor and crazy he seems to be. He felt guilty for being a little overweight in front of such old and skinny Fraggle.

"Can I ask you? Why did you become a hermit? You're so… skinny! And, to be honest, you're dirty. It's not good for your health! Eating rotten radishes is even worse! There are lots of fresh tasty radishes in the pantry," said Boober. "I was exiled from the Rock… I'm not allowed to your food," whispered Hermit. It shocked Boober. How could it happen that a Fraggle is not allowed to eat? Such a weird idea. "Why? What did you do to get exiled?" Boober asked. Hermit hesitated a little, and then answered, "My friend… I was walking there when he used a ladder... He accidentally fell down… broke a leg… accused me of that." He stopped his story to breathe out. "I got exiled for breaking his leg… I was clumsy and everybody was bothered by me… I tried to change, nothing helped… I thought it would be easy to be alone. I was wrong! It's the worst part of exile. Food and water are not as important as society… There are rare Doozer buildings after all… I also take the leftovers in night in outskirts… I could return in a few years… but I couldn't imagine my return. I don't have friends or family any more…" he ended and took a deep breath. Both Boober and Hermit were silent, both were thinking different things. Boober couldn't get out of head the idea of exile just because you're clumsy. He probably associated the Hermit's past with his own present. He never thought that his friends could let him down, and then a striking, sharp mind came – their patience is not everlasting. Boober could be next to be exiled!

"Wow… Just wow. You have such a sad life! Maybe I can help you? Do you need radishes? I can bring you some," Boober offered. "Oh no. Please, don't. I don't need them… what I get is enough," Hermit whispered hoarsely. "Go home… and don't lose your friends."

Boober ran away, back in the Great Hall (he couldn't remember how he found path back), stayed there a little, looking at the pond and then went to his room to sleep. Next day he got up early and as quickly as he could, he ran into Mokey's room and found her cleaning there. He rushed into her, smiled, wished her a good morning, hugged and kissed her in a cheek. "Sorry for yesterday tantrum! Are you angry at me, Mokey?" Boober asked her. She smiled back at him, gently grooming his bright red hair.

Then Boober found Wembley. He was doing nothing in the Great Hall. "Wembley, hi! Do you want to help me with cooking? I have an interesting task for you!" – "Ah! Of course! What are we waiting for?! Let's go!".

Boober had a plan. He decided to reveal his dance secret. He was going to organize a sort of party for his friends – with food and music, in his room. His dancing partner will be Mokey. Maybe he will learn to trust his friends and be happy just with what he got? Too much hobbies is bad for him, too.

"To dedicate time for the friends is a hobby too. Everyone should master it!"


End file.
